


Boys Don't Cry

by nightmareyes



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Pennywise (IT), Coming of Age, First Kiss, First Love, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mutual Pining, Period-Typical Homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-03
Updated: 2019-11-03
Packaged: 2021-01-21 11:18:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21298586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightmareyes/pseuds/nightmareyes
Summary: Eddie realized that he'd needed to be more careful not to stare. Richie had spent so long trying to convince everybody at school to stop spreading rumors that he was gay; the last thing that he'd needed was for the wrong person to see Eddie making googly eyes at him, get the wrong impression, and start up even nastier rumors. Richie would never forgive him.Eddie wasn't sure how to describe his feelings for Richie, but one thought in particular had continued to nag at him. Maybe, he'd thought hesitantly, it was a crush.So what if it were?Eddie told himself, feeling brave and somewhat defiant, if only in his own mind.So what, so what, so what? Maybe I do have a crush on him. A crush on a boy. Who cares? Who the fucking fuck cares?__Told from the perspective of Eddie over the course of four years, Eddie and Richie learn to navigate life, sexuality, bullies, best friends, first kisses, rebellious streaks, and makeshift Halloween costumes – all while trying to deal with the most pressing issue of all: their emerging feelings for each other.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak & Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 26
Kudos: 411





	Boys Don't Cry

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! Thanks for clicking on this fic!
> 
> I'll have some longer notes at the bottom but just a few housekeeping things:  
1\. This fic is a bit of a mixture of the movieverse and the bookverse, so I wasn't sticking strictly to one or the other when writing this.  
2\. As is kind of mentioned in the description, a plot point in this story is the fact that Richie is bullied for being gay. I chose to include this because the movie implies that he had to endure a decent amount of bullying for his sexuality. That being said, this is definitely much more of a "coming of age" sort of story with some period-typical homophobia rather than a story about Richie being bullied for being gay. But still, the choice is obviously yours if you feel like you don't want to read about that topic at all :)  
3\. The title is a reference to Boys Don't Cry by The Cure! I'm not saying that I listened to it in loop while writing this buttttttt... maybe I did.
> 
> That's pretty much it for now! Thanks again for clicking and I really, really hope you enjoy it!

It was a hot, sticky summer day in late June when Eddie figured that it had first started.

On that day, as he played in the woods all alone, Eddie had considered himself to be equal parts lucky and unlucky.

He thought himself to be very lucky on the basis that mother had let him out of the house at all, given the fact that he still had a broken arm in a cast. A year ago, or even a couple of weeks prior, he would have had no chance. But just last week, things had changed.

After thirteen long years of deception, his pharmacist revealed to him that the medication that he’d been picking up every week religiously (that same medicine that his mother had always forced him to take, claiming that something terribly, _terribly _bad would happen to him if had missed even one dose) had been nothing more than sugar pills and an inhaler full of water vapor.

Eddie hadn’t wanted to believe it at first – he’d known that his mother was more paranoid about germs and illnesses than most people (none of his friends’ mothers would keep them inside for a week to heal after they’d gotten a cut or a bruise), but he couldn’t think of any reason why she would want Eddie to think that he was sick if he really weren’t.

He quickly realized that, whether or not it had made sense, this newfound knowledge had given him _leverage._

He was still learning how to use it to his benefit, but so far, he had been more successful than not. When his mother would tell him that he couldn’t do something, like go out with his friends or run around the park because she thought that he was fragile and sick, he would simply threaten to stop taking his “pills” cold turkey. When his mother would bawl, crocodile tears rolling down her red cheeks and ask him if he enjoyed breaking his mama's heart, he had finally had the courage that he needed to stand his ground. More often than not, this would work in his favor.

It had made Eddie feel proud and also very brave.

As happy that he had been to be allowed to play outside, he quickly realized that today he was also very unlucky, as none of his friends were able to come out and play with him.

He had six best friends: Billy (who was at speech therapy for his stutter), Stanley (who was stuck with his father practicing for his bar mitzvah), Bev (who he'd known better than to visit at her house to see if she was free, since her dad would be furious that a boy was coming over to see her), Ben (who was busy doing chores for his mother), Richie (who -- actually, Eddie didn't know where he was, but he was probably at the arcade anyway, and Eddie couldn't stand to play any more street fighter), and Mikey (who had to do work on his family's farm all day).

He never would have thought that he could have six best friends and nobody to hang out with.

Still, Eddie decided that he could have fun playing outside by himself. It was a nice day today, and it was summer, and Eddie was a boy and _boys should be playing outside._ They should be riding their bikes and digging in the dirt and _running, _running around until their lungs hurt and their calves burned and not sitting inside quietly while their mothers watched _Days of Our Lives._

He spent a few moments pondering what kind of fun that he could have all by himself before finally deciding on skipping rocks down by the river. He took a few moments, painstakingly searching for the perfect stones, all while knowing the exact ones that he was looking for -- smooth, thin, and round so that they had the best chance of jumping across the water as many times as possible. This time, Eddie was determined to get it right; Billy had shown him how to do it a few weeks ago, but so far Eddie hadn't been able to replicate it with any real degree of success.

Bill had told him that it was okay -- that when his father first showed him how to do it, it had taken him a long time to get it right, too. Eddie supposed that if his father were still alive, _he_ may have been the one to show Eddie how to skip rocks.

Eddie figured that since he wasn't, Bill was the next best thing.

Eddie scanned the ground, looking for rocks that fit the right description but that were also not too dirty. He knew that his mama had lied to him about all of the diseases that he would get if he had played in the mud, but that didn't make the knots in his stomach or her voice in his head go away.

_Eddie Bear, promise me you won't go digging holes in the ground! You have no idea what's down there! You could get a fungal infection, or worse, Eddie, you could get TICKS! One tick bite and your brain will swell up so big that your entire head will explode. Eddie, please, please, please promise me, Eddie!_

"Shut up, Ma," Eddie muttered to himself, but went on collecting the cleanest rocks that he could find.

Before long, he had a big armful of stones that were all of various sizes but perfectly shaped for skipping. Maybe by the time that Bill got back from his speech therapy appointment, Eddie would be a pro.

He was about to make his way down to the river when he heard the sound of branches crunching under a pair of footsteps behind him.

Eddie's first thought was _I'm dead. _He shouldn't have come all the way out to the barrens -- not all alone at least, and certainly not when he’d known that Henry Bowers (the toughest, meanest bully in school, who had happened to be the one to break Eddie’s arm after Eddie had mouthed off to him) and his friends were likely still out for revenge. They probably decided that breaking only one of Eddie's arms wasn't enough and wanted to finish the job by breaking the other one (and maybe his legs too, if he was very unlucky).

His second thought was of the rocks in his arms. _The rock fight. _He and his friends had beaten Henry's crew once already by using rocks, and maybe Eddie could do it again. He may have been all alone, but he was certain that he could at least buy himself enough time to be able to run away.

Heart thudding in his ears, he turned around and wielded one of his largest skipping stones in his good hand. He was about ready to fire at the shadowy figure that he'd seen a few feet away before he realized that it was not Henry Bowers at all, nor was it any of Henry's friends.

Eddie’s best friend, Richie Tozier, stood not two yards away from him, bent over slightly with his hands on his knees and gasping for breath. He clearly hadn't seen Eddie, but was instead frantically checking over his shoulder to check if there was anybody that was following him

Eddie looked too, but nobody was there. Whoever Richie was running from must have lost him.

Richie must have made the same observation, because he stood up straight and took two more ragged breaths, then covered his mouth and let out a dry sob.

At first, Eddie wasn't sure what to make of this. He had seen Richie cry plenty of times when they were little. When they had first become friends when they were nine years old, Richie's big mouth and obnoxious sense of humor had gotten him into trouble with just about every occasional bully or big kid that he had come across. He would usually be able to run away, but when they caught him, the other kids would rough him up pretty terribly. And almost every time, Richie would cry, fat tears rolling down from his black eyes, and Eddie couldn't find it in himself to give him too much sympathy. It was mostly his fault, after all -- some bullies picked on the smaller kids just because they could (like Henry and his friends did), but others would only come after you if you'd given them a reason (like Richie usually would by telling them he'd fucked their mothers or something equally stupid).

But that had been years ago, and Eddie couldn't remember the last time he'd seen Richie cry. He didn't know if he'd _ever _seen Richie cry without first getting beaten up. At that thought, Eddie had felt a darkness settle in his stomach as he wondered if something was really, really wrong.

He took a hesitant step closer and asked, "Richie? Are you okay?"

Richie reacted violently to the sound of his voice, straightening up as stiffly as a board and jumping as if he were about to take off again before he noticed that the voice calling after him was coming from Eddie. In just one moment, Richie’s demeanor had completely changed, as he visibly relaxed and flashed Eddie an easy grin.

"Eds! Jesus fuck, I didn't see you there." Richie quickly moved to wipe his eyes, the smile not leaving his face. "We need to, like, get you a bell. Or something."

"Come on, Richie, don't call me Eds. You know I hate it when you call me that." Eddie frowned, remembering the point of their conversation. "Is everything alright? Who were you running from?"

"Oh, that?" Richie smirked. "Yeah, sorry man, I was just running out on your mom."

"Richie!" Eddie exclaimed, not entirely expecting Richie’s juvenile response, but not at all surprised either.

"You know how she can be, all clingy and shit --"

"Shut up!"

"-- and she said I'm the best she's ever had, so she never wants to let me leave --"

"That is so not funny, Richie! Gross!" Eddie exclaimed, but there wasn't much bite behind his words. There couldn’t be – a part of him was just relieved that Richie wasn't crying anymore.

Richie let out a breathy laugh, and only then could Eddie see something _off_ in his eyes, as if they were glazed over. It looked as though he was only a few moments away from starting to cry again.

"Really," Eddie asked seriously, taking another step closer. "Is everything okay?"

"Ah shucks, Eds, you're too cute. But," Richie continued with one of his terrible English accents, "I'm quite bloody splendid, mate!"

Eddie groaned, "Richie, please, don't do the British guy. And don't call me Eds! How many times do I have to ask you that?"

"No time for protests, my love! You look quite busy," Richie grinned and gestured to Eddie's armful of rocks. "Tally ho, it appears that we have work to do!"

"You can skip rocks with me, if you want," Eddie said slowly, hesitant to let Richie drop the subject. "But only if you stop with that stupid voice."

Richie laughed, this time a bit more genuinely. "Fine. Just promise me that your mom isn't going to be there. I seriously am trying to avoid her."

"Fuck off!" Eddie fired back, trying to hide the small smile on his face. At least Richie had seemed to be a bit less upset.

He wasn't entirely convinced that everything was okay. But until everything was, Eddie was happy to offer a distraction.

*******

Summer had ended far too quickly, and before Eddie knew it he was going clothes shopping with his mother (_Make sure that shirt is one-hundred percent cotton, Eddie! You know how sensitive your skin can get!) _and getting ready for his classes.

He was not looking forward to going back to school for the obvious reasons, but also because he had managed to avoid the likes of Henry and his gang for the latter end of the summer. He was relatively sure that they wouldn't try to hurt him during school hours, but there was no reason why they couldn't follow him out of the building after classes ended and teach him a lesson.

Still, (and Eddie would never admit this out loud) Eddie mostly liked school. He liked reading stories in his English classes, and even though he wasn't particularly good at art or home economics, he still enjoyed the feeling of having created something. Best of all, Eddie and his friends (The Losers Club, as they started calling themselves that summer) all shared a lunch period this year. Eddie had never had enough friends to have a full lunch table before, and for once he wouldn't have to worry about eating his lunch in a bathroom stall if one of the few people that he’d sat with were absent.

The downside of having all seven Losers together at one table was simply that: all together in one place, they were an easy target. Not a day went by without a bully "accidentally" spilling his food all over one of them or blowing spitballs in their direction. It was slightly disheartening, but they'd all decidedly preferred dealing with it as friends as opposed to all alone (as they were all somewhat embarrassed to admit, they had done every year prior to this one).

Unlike usual, Eddie had noticed that some of their classmates had started spreading rumors about them. That was one of the only perks of being invisible, he’d thought: when nobody knew who you were, nobody cared enough to spread embarrassing lies about you. It was a perk that none of the Losers were able to enjoy anymore ever since they had all banded together.

It started with low hanging fruit, like catty girls saying that the only reason that so many boys were friends with Beverly must have been because she put out or some asshole claiming that Ben was so fat because he would eat anything that he could find out of the trash. Once, somebody had said that Eddie still slept in the same bed as his mother, which had gotten him so embarrassed that he had taken several puffs of his aspirator (which, by this point, he had been well aware was fake).

"They must have gotten Eddie confused with me," Richie had said with a smirk, and although Eddie pretended to be annoyed, he had been so upset that he was grateful for the levity.

Overall though, eighth grade was going better than he had expected. Eddie was doing well in all of his classes (except for math, which he had finally begrudgingly agreed to let Richie help him with) and Henry Bowers seemed less likely to want to bother him when all of his friends were together as a group. Not to mention that this year, thanks to his newfound courage to defy his mother’s rules, he'd had more freedom than ever before.

It was shaping up to be a great year for his friends too: Mike decided to join the football team, Ben got a job helping out at the public library, and even Stanley was in good spirits because he'd no longer had to worry about getting ready for his Bar Mitzvah. Things were seemingly going spectacularly well for all of them.

Until a particularly nasty rumor started being spread about Richie.

It had started with none other than Henry Bowers himself, and after it had gotten out, it had spread around the school like a wildfire that had burned much more harshly than any other rumors about the Losers ever had before.

The rumor, as Henry told it, went like this: One summer day, Henry's cousin Nick decided to hang out at one of his favorite places (aside from, of course, his girlfriend's house): the arcade. He liked to hang around there occasionally to try and sneak free root beer floats and bully little kids into giving him their tokens. While he was there, he decided that he wanted to play a game of Street Fighter, but the machine was being hogged by none other than Richie Tozier, who must have had no fucking life because he was there just about every single day. Today, Nick had enough of this and told Richie to "get off of the fucking machine, or I'll pound your face in." Richie had told him that he would, if Nick could beat him at the game first.

Not one to back out on a challenge, Nick agreed. According to him, he played a round with Richie, and won -- after which Richie had leaned in for a kiss, and refused to leave unless Nick agreed to let Richie suck his cock. At that point, Henry entered the arcade, saw what was going down, and chased Richie out of there and told him to never come back.

The rumor, as Richie told it, went like this: “Gee whiz, I didn't even know that Bowers had a fucking cousin! Doesn't that sound disturbing? Another kid running around with Bowers’ ugly-ass face? I bet they could curdle milk just by looking in its direction. Oh! Or they could start the World's Tiniest Dicks Club!”

Eddie wasn't entirely sure what to believe, but he knew that Bowers had to be full of shit. Why he'd targeted Richie was a mystery, but Eddie had known that if anybody were gay and trying to have sex with Henry's cousin, it sure as fuck wasn't Richie.

The rest of the school was unfortunately not so easily convinced. The girls started avoiding Richie, and the boys teased him (or worse) especially relentlessly. Even more unsettling, it had seemed as though there was a new rumor circulating about Richie every day – always about him and what he'd do with some unnamed boy in the dark when nobody was looking.

Although Richie pretended that he couldn't care less (_"Blimey, I can’t be arsed to care about such silly things, wot wot!_), if Eddie looked close enough, he could see a sort of tension in Richie's shoulders that he’d sworn hadn’t been there before.

Still, he figured that if Richie said that he didn't care, it wasn't much of his place to intervene.

*******

The rumors about Richie didn't stop.

The leaves had changed, fallen, and gotten covered in thick, Maine snow and still the kids around school wouldn't leave him alone. The rumors had only gotten more biting, too:

_Didja hear? Tozier's giving out handy's behind the dumpster after school!_

_There's a reason he hangs out with so many dudes!_

_We learned about male anatomy in Health class today and Tozier almost creamed his fucking pants!_

Usually, Eddie wouldn't think too much of people saying stuff like that. After all, all of the Losers (except Beverly, he supposed) had gotten shoved around and called queer. Eddie knew that was just the kind of thing that you said to a guy when you wanted to make him feel bad, so it had never bothered him all that much.

There was something about how they said it to Richie, though -- or maybe not so much in that way that they said it, but in how he _reacted_ that made it seem far worse than just a name. Eddie had seen Richie get pounded by bullies and heard him be called nearly every bad name in the book, and typically he could laugh it off with little issue.

This was different. It wasn't that Richie didn't try to play it off as a joke (Eddie figured nearly everything for Richie had potential to be a joke). It the distinct change in his demeanor after somebody had made a particularly nasty comment.

Normal-Richie was usually like a regular person, but with the volume on ten. He did voices, made jokes, and was all around loud and obnoxious. Lately, Richie was at more like volume one hundred. Whenever he'd hear a rumor, it was like he would take it upon himself to be as disruptive as possible.

Like one day at lunch --

"...and did you know that sometimes, Northern Cardinals can actually be yellow instead of red? Isn't that cool?" Stanley grinned. "It's like super fucking rare, but I found this book at the library that had a picture of one and --"

"Stanley! Stan the fucking man, could you please, _please_ do me a personal favor and spare us? I haven't been so bored since I got Eddie’s mom to suck my dick," Richie groaned.

"Hey--!" Eddie objected.

"I-I thought it w-was interesting, R-R-Richie," Bill said, with the sense of finality that only the perceived leader of their club could possibly muster.

"Of course _you_ did Big Bill. You hang onto every fucking word he says." Richie rolled his eyes, but Eddie knew that if Bill had wanted Richie to lay off, then Richie would. "Whatever Stan, go on, I'll try to close my eyes and lean into it like I did with Spaghetti's mom."

"You're so gross--!"

"Here, Richie, you'll like this," Stan grinned. "Did you know... there's a type of bird, it's called a Bassian Thrush? It -- and I shit you not -- finds its food by farting."

All of the Losers burst out into a chorus of laughter.

"It _what?_" Ben asked.

"Yeah, so I guess it like farts at leaves or something, and then the worms hiding underneath the leaves hear it or some shit and decide to move around, and then that's when --"

_"Hey Richie, sucking dick in the girls' bathroom again?"_

Almost in unison, their lunch table looked up to see a group of ninth grade girls staring at them, sneering and cackling like a pack of hyenas.

"Bev," one of them said, "You better watch out, or Richie's gonna steal all of your little boyfriends."

"I wonder how he even blows them with all of those fucking teeth in the way," said another.

"If you're really that curious about what I can do, you should come back to my place tonight and I can show you," Richie fired back at them with a smirk.

"Ew," the first girl squealed. "Like I’d want a fag like you anywhere near me!" 

This time, Richie didn’t have a response.

"G-g-go away," Bill shouted at them, that same tone of authority that he’d previously had in his voice. "You're n-not funny! N-n-nobody's laughing but y-you!"

"Mind your own buh-buh-buh-business, loser!" she mocked, and the rest of the girls went back to cackling as they walked away.

"Jesus, what was that all about?" Mike frowned.

"Didn’t they say something about the girl's bathroom?" Ben asked.

"B-B-Bev, did you see anything in the g-girl's bathroom today?"

Bev stared at her lunch tray uncomfortably and played around with her food. "Yeah, I guess I did. It's just stupid shit, though, not a big deal. People write mean stuff all the time."

"W-what did it say?"

"I don't want to make Richie feel bad," Bev said quietly. "Nobody believes stuff that people write on the bathroom stalls anyway."

"Well _I'll be_," Richie began with a thick and decidedly very poor southern drawl. "I'm awful flattered that ya'll care so much about the feelin's of little ole' me. But I implore you, I can take it."

"It's just that I don't really want to say it, is all," Bev muttered, her cheeks flushing deeply. "It just said... _Richie Tozier sucks flamer cock._"

"Who the fuck would write something like that?" Ben asked angrily.

"People can be really fucking cruel," Mike agreed, shaking his head.

"Well I thank you, thank you very much for all of your lovin' and support," Richie said with his upper lip curled in an unimpressive Elvis impersonation. "but the King's gotta keep on keeping on."

"R-Richie, are you sure y-y-you're okay?" Bill asked gently.

Richie dropped the accent, but none of his volume. "I'm fucking peachy, Billy, but thanks for askin'!"

"Really, Richie, nobody even reads the stuff on the bathroom stalls," Bev said softly.

"Well clearly some people fucking do!" Richie snapped suddenly. It had likely had more bite than he’d intended to give it, because when he saw that Bev looked slightly taken aback he amended, "I'm sorry, but," in an Irish accent, "I amn't after talkin' about this no more, lassie!"

\-- so they'd changed the subject.

But for the rest of lunch (and the rest of the school day, really) Eddie noticed that Richie had seemed off.

Eddie wanted so badly to help him, but he wasn't sure how.

*******

Before long, summer was upon them once again and the contents of the Losers' backpacks were at the bottom of a trash can.

Eddie was pretty content with his plans for the coming summer: he was going to hang out with his friends, ride his bike, avoid Henry Bowers at all fucking costs, and refuse to answer to his mother.

...at least, as best as he possibly could.

His dynamic with his Ma had changed slightly over the course of the year. She was still as strict as ever, but whenever she would threaten to keep him locked inside the house and away from his friends, Eddie would remind her that he was still faithfully taking his medication even though he was sure that they were nothing but sugar pills. His mother had quickly realized that her manufactured tears had become useless against Eddie and was letting him go with less and less resistance over time.

This did, however, mean that Eddie had to continue going to the pharmacy every week to pick up his "medicine." It wasn't all that bad; he figured that at least he was usually lucky enough to have money left over from picking up his prescription to buy a soda and some candy for himself.

And sometimes, his particularly loudmouthed best friend would join him.

Today, Eddie and Richie were sat on a park bench about a quarter of a mile away from the drugstore. They were sharing Eddie's candy bars and taking turns sipping on his bottle of Pepsi (Eddie tried to ignore the obvious exchange of germs), as well as bickering about anything that came into their minds.

"Batman versus Superman is so fucking stupid! Obviously Superman would win. He's like superhuman!" Eddie said.

"Wouldn't be so sure of that if I were you, Spaghetti Man," Richie scoffed, taking a big bite of Twix. "Superman is cool and all, but Batman is rich as fuck. He could hire, like, a million little Batman servants and put them in cool suits and kick Superman's ass no fucking problem."

"That is so not the point! It doesn't matter what he does, he'll always be way weaker than Superman. And don't call me Spaghetti anymore, Richie, you know I hate that!" Eddie took a gulp of Pepsi and then passed it back to Richie.

"But think about it. Bruce Wayne is fucking rich, famous, and everybody loves him. What does Clark Kent have? A shitty job at a newspaper place and a fake pair of glasses? I mean, I hate to break it to you Eds, but glasses kind of suck. What kind of moron would wear them for fun?" Richie bit off a piece of candy, but before chewing or swallowing it, had another sip of soda to wash it down.

"Ew, Richie, that's so gross. Why would you eat it that way?" Eddie reached over to grab the soda from Richie's hand, but Richie only tightened his grip.

"Zee flavors, Monsieur, of zee candy and zee soda... zhey are, how do you say..." Richie seemed to pause for a moment to think of the right adjective, and then suddenly burped loudly in Eddie's face.

Eddie was not particularly proud of the sound that he made in response, which could have probably been best described as a girlish shriek. "Richie, I can't believe you did that, oh my god do you know how many germs you probably have in your mouth? And the smell, Jesus Christ, Richie why does your breath smell so fucking bad?"

Richie was laughing so hard that it shook his entire body (and Eddie’s, too, since they had been sitting so close), and Eddie was out for revenge.

"Fine, if you're going to be disgusting, so can I." He got up into Richie's face, who seemed to be waiting patiently and politely humoring Eddie's attempt at retaliation. Eddie opened his mouth wide...

...and nothing came out.

This had only gotten both of them laughing even harder.

Eddie was still only inches away from Richie. Even as they laughed, Eddie was struck by a hint of maturity in Richie's face that he had never seen there before: his jaw appeared somewhat wider than Eddie had remembered it being, and he was starting to get a hint of stubble that Eddie hadn't ever noticed. But then again, they had never been this close before. Eddie thought that, if he were to only lean in a small amount, they would be kissing.

He stopped laughing almost immediately after having that thought.

As if on cue, a voice from a few yards away shouted, _"Tozier, can't you and your boyfriend get a goddamn room? Fucking disgusting, man."_

Richie and Eddie both looked over to where the voice had come from and found that it belonged to a beefy boy riding past them on a bike. His name was Jacob, a kid from their grade who had given Richie a particular amount of trouble that past year.

Richie quickly pulled away from Eddie and yelled, "Bet you know what disgusting looks like, since you see it every time you look in a fucking mirror! Fucking asshole!" But by the time he'd said it, Jacob had already ridden away.

"What a dick," Eddie muttered, feeling his cheeks turn red. It was almost as if Jacob had known what Eddie had been thinking right before he'd hollered at them.

"A massive dick," Richie agreed. "Or maybe... maybe he eez ze tiny, ugly, shriveled up dick," he said in his French accent, the last word in his sentence sounding more like _deek._

"Yeah, you're right," Eddie said, and nervously reached for the bottle of Pepsi to take another sip, only to realize that it had tipped over and the rest of it had spilled out onto the ground. "Fuck."

"Jesus, sorry Eddie. That was probably my fault," Richie said, and Eddie saw Richie's cheeks turning pink as well. "I've got a few bucks on me. I could buy you a new one if you want?"

"Nah, it's fine, Rich. Really." They sat together for a few more moments trying to ignore the awkward silence hanging in the air before Eddie said, "I probably should be getting home soon anyway. My Ma is going to be wondering where I am."

Richie nodded, perhaps too quickly. "Yeah, you're right. I've probably, uh-- I mean, I think I have somewhere else that I have to be too."

Eddie stood up, grateful for the excuse to get out of there. "I'll see you later Richie, okay?"

"Yeah, Eddie. See ya later."

As Eddie walked away, he couldn't help but feel horribly guilty. _He _was the one who'd had the thought about kissing Richie, and yet Richie was the one who had gotten tormented for it. It hadn’t seemed fair to him -- but then again, as he remembered all of the times that the Losers had gotten bullied for things beyond their control, Eddie thought that maybe a lot of things in life just weren't particularly fair.

*******

"Y-you really should a-ask her, you know. I'm s-s-sure she'll say yes."

Ben frowned, his gaze directed (as usual) at Beverly. "Jeez, Bill. I don't know..."

Eddie wasn't so confident, either. Homecoming dates were a big deal -- sure, for some people it was just a hookup, but it gave others a chance to land a serious boyfriend or girlfriend after just one night. Eddie knew that Bev liked Ben, but he wasn't sure if she had liked him that way.

Eddie didn't understand all of the fuss around homecoming. Since they were in ninth grade now, they were finally able to attend the high school dance, but while everybody else was booking limos and scrambling for dates, Eddie found that he couldn't really care less about the whole thing. It was a night of wearing uncomfortable suits (which Eddie hated), drinking shitty punch out of a bowl (which loaded with sugar and also horribly unsanitary), and awkwardly dancing (which Eddie was terrible at) with a girl (which Eddie, though he wasn't entirely sure why, couldn't force himself to be particularly interested in the thought of). In fact, he'd had half a mind to skip the whole thing altogether until Richie had convinced him to go.

"Come on, Eddie, you don't even have to bring a date," he'd said. "I'll sneak some vodka out of my mom's liquor cabinet and us Losers can be the life of the fucking party for once."

Eddie had never been drunk before, but he was intrigued by the prospect. There was a voice in the back of his mind (that sounded an awful lot like his mother) saying things like, _but Eddie Bear, you could get brain damage, or alcohol poisoning! You could pass out, all alone, and choke to death on your own vomit!_

Eddie had gotten better at ignoring those voices, though.

At that moment, Beverly had walked over to their table and sat down. "What are we talking about?"

Ben's entire face flushed beet red. "It's nothing, Bev!"

She shrugged. "Hey, was anybody able to find a date to homecoming yet?"

Eddie shook his head, and watched as the other Losers at the table -- Bill, Ben, Mike, and Stan -- did the same. Part of him hoped that Ben didn't end up asking Bev to the dance; the thought of attending without a date was much less daunting when their entire group would be doing it together.

"Me neither," Bev said. "Not that I was trying to find one. A few boys asked me, but I think that they were just doing it as a joke."

"What?" Ben asked, outraged. "Who? That's terrible! What were their names, Bev?"

She smiled sadly. "It's really not that big of a deal, Ben."

"Well at least we're all going alone," said Mike. "Losers stick together, right?"

"You g-g-got that right," said Bill.

"Got what right, Big Bill?" Richie asked, clumsily setting down his lunch tray at the table.

"We're talking about how none of us Losers can find dates to Homecoming," Stan said sardonically.

"Well blimey," Richie said, now British. "Aren't I just caught 'wif my pants down."

"What do you mean?" Eddie asked.

"Don’t want to rain on your parade, but I found a bird to go 'wif me," Richie grinned "Wot, am I the only one?"

"Nice try," Stan smirked, "but Eddie's mom doesn't count!"

"Stan, what the fuck?" exclaimed Eddie.

Richie laughed, the sound of it somewhat taunting to Eddie’s ears. "While Eddie's mother will always be my number one gal, I actually have a real date to homecoming. You know Mallory McGowan?"

Eddie did know Mallory. Although he admittedly didn't spend as much time drooling over girls as his friends seemed to, he had certainly noticed her. She was a grade above the rest of the Losers. Her loose, red curls had almost reminded him of Bev at first glance, but Mallory had a pair of striking blue eyes, white teeth, and athletic shoulders. Eddie remembered one time that he had dropped his pencil in science class and Mallory had picked it up for him -- and the stunning smile that she'd given him had been enough to make him blush.

Eddie felt an unpleasant pull in the pit of his stomach.

"But Richie, I thought that we were all supposed to hang out together at the dance," he said, frowning.

Richie shrugged. "Sorry Eddie, opportunities like these don't come 'round every day. But hey, maybe the rest of you lonely hearts can pour one out for me, eh?"

"I d-don't see what a girl like M-M-Mallory would want with somebody like y-you Richie," Bill smirked.

"Clearly the girls at this school don't have taste," agreed Stanley.

"Guys, stop teasing him," Bev said, and smiled warmly at Richie. "We're really happy for you, Richie."

Except Eddie wasn't sure that he _was_ happy for Richie. He had suddenly felt slightly nauseous. He couldn't believe that Richie was ditching him -- for a random girl that he'd just met, no less. Richie was the only reason that Eddie had bought a ticket to this stupid fucking dance in the first place.

And what was worse, he'd felt something like -- well, he _thought_ that it felt like jealousy, but he couldn't put his finger on what exactly he was jealous of. He figured that he must have been jealous that Richie had been able to find a girl to go to the dance with him, not to mention a girl as pretty as Mallory was, and Eddie hadn’t. It just didn't fully make sense to him why he'd felt that way, since he hadn't even really cared all that much about finding a girl to take to the dance to begin with.

Still, adults were always telling him things like _you'll find out when you're older, Eddie,_ so maybe this sudden burst of jealousy was just his masculine instincts kicking in.

Or something like that.

"We _are_ happy for you," Ben agreed.

"Good golly, if I'm not the luckiest boy on this side of the Mississippi," Richie drawled. "I've got six best friends, a date to homecoming, and Eddie's mom to bang on the side."

Eddie would normally have responded to this in disgust, but he was too distracted by staring at his unfinished lunch to pay any more attention to their conversation.

*******

Historically, Christmas break had been pretty fucking epic for the Losers.

It was an entire two weeks that they’d had off of school with no responsibilities except to play with all of the new shit that they'd acquired during the holidays. Richie would usually get new video games that they would all huddle around and watch him play, and Beverly would get some CDs that they’d listen to on her muffled Walkman. Stanley would usually get something lame like a book about blue jays, but they would all still usually humor him as he'd tell them everything that he’d learned from it.

Eddie, who would often get boring gifts like socks and underwear from his mother (who still seemed to detest the fact that he wanted to go out on his own and have fun), may have been the one who enjoyed getting together to share their loot the most.

This year was different. Richie and Mike had girlfriends now, and they brought them around to a lot of their hangouts. Eddie didn't necessarily have anything against Mallory or Elaine, but they'd felt almost like intruders in their close-knit friend group. The Losers' inside jokes constantly needed to be explained, and unlike Beverly, they were much more scandalized by the Losers’ occasionally somewhat crude sense of humor. (Eddie had no idea how Mallory could possibly be dating Richie and be so easily offended. Maybe Richie acted differently when it was only the two of them. Eddie wasn't sure why that thought had left such a sour taste in his mouth.).

Aside from that, Ben, who was fifteen now, had decided to take on more hours working at the library, which meant that he wasn't free to hang out with them anywhere near as much. Even Beverly was stuck at home for most of break because her father was acting more militant than usual lately about her spending all of her time with a group of boys. A part of Eddie wished that she could stand up to her father the way that he had stood up to his mother, but another part of him thought that their situations may have actually been very different.

All of this to say: Christmas break this year was largely a bust. The only time that all seven of them had been able to hang out alone was for one evening, a few days after New Year's.

They had spent a few hours together in their clubhouse, listening to music and reading comics together, and for a minute, things had felt just like they'd used to. After that minute had passed, Eddie had remembered when they would spend every day down there together, and something about the contrast to their current situation made him feel profoundly sad. First it was Richie and Mike, but soon the rest of the Losers would start dating. And Eddie figured that just like Ben, most of them would get jobs too.

The other Losers must have felt something similar in the air, and after a while Bill recommended that they get a bite to eat at a diner downtown instead.

(Downtown Derry was, of course, a relative term; there were only a few local shops, restaurants, and bars, but it was as close to a "city nightlife" as their small town could offer.)

As it was, the change of scenery happened to be just what they had needed. All it had taken were a few burgers and some jumbo milkshakes, and they were all laughing and joking like they had were when they were thirteen – or maybe even younger.

"Eddie," Richie cackled, "I haven't had a meal this good since the last time I ate your mom's—"

"R-r-roast beef!" Bill interrupted, laughing hysterically, and the rest of the Losers followed suit.

(There was something slightly off, though. It wasn't a big deal or anything, and maybe Eddie was just being overly sensitive.)

(It may have been a weird thing to take note of, but Eddie couldn't help but notice that Richie hadn't called Eddie any of his typical pet names in quite a while – it had been at least since Richie had started dating Mallory. Honestly, Eddie was mostly relieved. He hated those stupid names and how Richie would keep calling Eddie "Eds" or "Spaghetti Man" or something equally as dumb even after Eddie had asked him to stop hundreds of times.)

(But he would be lying if he said that he didn't kind of miss it, too. Maybe. Just a little.)

They were in the middle of finishing their desserts (_"Love me a good cream pie," Richie had smirked._) when they were visited by some deeply unwanted guests.

"Hey, look," Henry Bowers sneered, walking through the front doors of the diner with two of his cronies in tow. "It's _Dick_ Tozier and all of his faggy boyfriends. And Bev Marsh too, but hey, close enough right?"

"Get the fuck out of here," Ben nearly shouted, his face a deep shade of crimson. He had never taken particularly well to people teasing Bev, and the fact that it was _Henry Bowers_ and his gang, who all of the Losers had hated more than anybody in the world, had only increased his fury.

"Aren't you guys worried that you'll catch something from him?" Henry's friend Vic spat, nodding at Richie. "I hear fags have all sorts of dirty diseases, and you guys are already pretty fucked up as it is."

Eddie's eyes darted over to Richie expecting him to fire back some sort of smart-assed remark that would make Bowers and his assholes look like a bunch of idiots. Richie, however, said nothing and instead sat completely still, only staring at the table in front of him.

"The only ones here who are f-f-fucked up here are y-you assholes," Bill shot back at them angrily. Eddie was somewhat taken aback, as that was nearly the exact response that he was expecting to hear from Richie.

"Oh, now fucking stuttering Bill is trying to act all buh-buh-buh-brave, is he now? Well maybe we can all see how brave you are when I smash your fucking face in." Henry growled, moving in toward their table. Eddie cringed instinctually; he didn’t think that Bowers would actually have the courage to hit any of them while they were still inside, but he wasn’t entirely confident in that assumption.

"You'd better back off," Beverly said quietly, her voice so icy that Eddie had actually gotten goosebumps when he’d heard it. "That is, unless you want me to tell everybody what I saw you and Patrick Hockstetter doing in the woods together."

Henry froze, the furious expression that he was wearing and the power stance that he had held just moments prior had completely melted away right in front of them. "What the fuck did you just say?"

"You know what I said," Bev responded calmly. "I was there. I saw what the two of you did. Unless you want it to get out, you'd better leave us alone. For good."

"Jesus, Bowers, what the fuck is she talking about? What did you guys do?" Belch, Henry's other friend asked nervously.

Eddie didn't dare speak, but he was curious too. Had they gotten together and seriously hurt somebody? Worse? He knew that Henry was probably capable of it, and Hockstetter didn't seem all that stable himself.

"Nothing. Let's -- let's get out of here." Henry choked, looking more uneasy than Eddie had ever seen him. When none of his friends moved, he hollered furiously, "Did I fucking stutter? I said let's get the fuck out of here!"

Henry walked away hastily without checking to see if his gang was following, but he didn't have to; they always did.

Once they were gone, it had taken more than a few moments for somebody to finally break the silence.

"I'm sorry Bev, but where the hell did that come from?" Mike had finally asked.

"Honestly," Stan nodded vigorously. "What did you see them do that made him back off so quickly?"

"It's not important," Bev said mildly. "The only thing that matters is that I don't think that they'll be bothering us anymore. For a little while, at least."

And although Eddie didn't think that he would ever stop wondering, he had certainly known better than to keep pressing on.

Bev turned her attention over to Richie. "Hey, Richie, are you okay?"

Richie looked over at Beverly and laughed incredulously. "Gee, I wish everybody would stop fucking asking me that. How many times do I have to tell you guys that I'm cool as a cucumber in the middle of fucking January?"

"R-R-Richie--"

"I mean, sure, do I wish I wasn't public enemy number one to assholes like Bowers and every other dick-fuck in school who believes every rumor they hear? Yeah, I guess I do. Is it _ideal_ that I can't even hang out with my friends without somebody making some sort of oh-so-fucking-clever comment about how I suck dick for a living? No -- no I'd say it fucking isn't." Richie's voice was shaking now.

Eddie shifted in his seat uncomfortably. He wanted to reach out and comfort Richie, but he had a feeling that if he did, his hand would be swatted away.

"And am I happy that even though I have a gorgeous fucking _girlfriend_, and I made sure that everyone -- _everyone_ knows about it, I still can’t get people to stop calling me a –" Richie swallowed. "A fag? No. I'm not."

All of the sudden, Eddie had felt like crying. There was something in Richie's expression that brought Eddie back to two summers ago, when he was a little kid collecting rocks in the woods and he had caught Richie crying all by himself. He had looked so fragile and the complete opposite of his typically cocky and obnoxious self – just like he had now.

"R-Rich," Bill said quietly. "It's okay. All of us Losers know the truth. We know you're not gay."

Richie stared at Bill for a moment, eyes wide and glossy. Eddie waited for a moment, half expecting somebody else to chime in and say something like, _and even if you were, we wouldn't care!_ Eddie supposed that he could be the one to say it, but he didn't know if he could gather the courage.

After a few seconds passed, a bit of the tension in Richie's shoulders softened. "Thanks, Bill. I'm sorry about all that, guys."

"Don't worry about it, man," Ben said. "Those guys are major assholes. They just want to get a rise out of all of us."

"Whelp, I thought I would have known better by now," Richie said, impersonating an old man's voice. "Old dogs, new tricks, and all of that malarkey."

Eddie let out a weak laugh, hoping that some levity may have been able to ease the situation.

He wasn't entirely wrong. The group exchanged a few more somewhat tense jokes before Stan had said, _"Say, I think I'm finished with dessert." _and Bev remarked, _"I should probably get home before my father starts to get suspicious."_

They had parted ways that night, all wishing that their group had stayed alone in their secret clubhouse.

The next time that they'd all hung out together, Richie had brought Mallory along.

*******

Large bodies of water were a cesspool of disease, bacteria and grime. Eddie's mother had drilled this into him as a boy, and even now as an almost-sixteen-year-old, Eddie couldn't find it in himself to completely disagree with her.

That didn't mean that he wouldn't join the rest of the Losers in as they'd splashed around in that disease, bacteria, and grime. Especially not on a summer day that was as hot as this one.

He'd just complain about it the entire time.

"Guys, don't let it get into your mouths! You have no idea how many things that you could catch by swimming in dirty water!"

Health concerns aside, Eddie loved hanging out at the quarry. All of the Losers did -- it had essentially become their second clubhouse that summer. For the first time since most of them could remember, Bowers and his friends had been essentially leaving them alone, which meant that they didn't have to spend the majority of their free time together hiding underground from bullies.

Ben had liked it so much that he said that he was considering joining their high school's swim team.

"Really?" Stan had asked. "I thought that you said that you wanted to join track."

Ben shrugged. "That was before I knew that I could swim."

Just like over winter break, they had less time to spend together than they had in past summers: alongside of Ben, Beverly had also gotten a job working part-time at a local boutique (Which her father had disapproved of, thinking that it wasn't a woman's place to work) and Bill landed a newspaper route, as if he hadn't already had enough excuse to ride his bike, Silver, all around town.

Unlike winter break, however, all seven of the Losers were once again single. Mike had broken up with his girlfriend a few months ago because she had wanted him to quit football in the upcoming school year to spend more time with her. Stan had gotten a girlfriend named Alyssa for all of about two weeks in March, after which she had promptly dumped him, claiming that she could not stand to hear any more facts about birds.

Even Richie and Mallory had broken up loudly and irreparably a week before summer break had begun -- or so Richie had claimed. Really, neither one of them had said much at all to anybody concerning the true nature of their breakup, and Eddie frankly could not care less.

There had been something off about Richie while the two of them were dating. Eddie couldn't quite put his finger on what it was, but it was almost as if dating Mallory had diluted Richie somehow. When they were together, it was like Richie couldn't entirely be himself.

Not to mention, the initial jealousy that Eddie had felt when he'd found out that Richie had gotten a girlfriend had brewed into something even worse -- something like resentment. It had gotten to the point where he dreaded being around Richie if he'd known that Mallory was going to be there. Whenever Eddie would see the two of them holding hands, or worse _kissing_, Eddie had felt almost sick to his stomach.

Needless to say, he was probably happier to hear about their breakup than a normal, supportive friend should be.

Today, all of the Losers were extra rowdy because they had just gotten back from the ice cream parlor. The shop's freezer had broken, and they were hurriedly giving out massive scoops of melting ice cream to anybody who had happened to pass by -- completely free of charge.

Eddie had thought that they were all too old to really feel the effects of a sugar rush, but then he remembered his placebo pills: if you believed hard enough that they would work, then maybe they actually would. He thought that maybe that was how their sugar rushes worked, too.

They were all giggling as though they were children far younger than they actually were as they splashed around in the quarry together. At one point, Richie had come up behind Eddie and dunked him in the water, and despite Eddie's squeals of protest and outraged claims that he was going to catch a bacterial infection, he couldn't help but notice how his skin had felt electrified where Richie had touched him.

And that hadn't been the only thing that Eddie had noticed.

Even though he had tried not to, Eddie found that recently, he had started noticing things about Richie-- things that he'd never even thought to look for before.

He noticed a new broadness in Richie's shoulders and chest, and the slight muscle definition in his skinny arms as he swam. He noticed the way that water droplets would gather and roll down Richie's torso -- from the muscles in his neck down past his pecs, to his stomach, and _lower. _He'd also noticed, despite himself, the messy line of hair that had started growing underneath Richie's belly button and that disappeared underneath his swim trunks.

He'd tried hard not to stare. But once he'd started noticing these things, he found that he couldn't stop.

As they'd all gotten out of the quarry to dry off, Richie had seemed to notice Eddie noticing him.

"What's with the face, Eddie?" Richie asked. "Do I have a leech on me or some shit?"

Eddie jumped, his cheeks flushing at the prospect of being caught. He squeaked, "No! No leeches. Sorry, Richie, I was just... deep in thought, I guess. Didn't even realize that I was looking at you."

"I saw that look on your face, Eddie. What were you thinking about?" Bev asked, her voice a lighthearted tease. Eddie could have sworn that his blood ran cold in his veins until she followed it up with, "Was it a girl?"

Richie's eyes widened comically, and he let out a gasp. "Eddie, say it ain't so! Please tell me you were not staring at me while you were thinking about some chick that you wanna bone."

Eddie brought his gaze back over to Richie, who had his eyebrows raised expectantly.

Eddie had also noticed the way that Richie would sometimes laugh when he was telling a really funny joke, right before the punchline, and ruin the whole thing. He noticed how Richie's nose would sometimes scrunch up when he was challenging himself to try a new (terrible) impression, or how when he'd smile, Eddie would almost wonder how all of Richie's enormous teeth could possibly fit in his mouth. He noticed how -- right now, when Richie's glasses were still off -- the sunlight had reflected off of Richie's brown eyes just so, which made them appear as though they actually, genuinely sparkled.

Eddie noticed at that moment that he thought that Richie was kind of, sort of, beautiful in his own way.

"No," Eddie muttered, embarassed. "I wasn't thinking about a girl."

Graciously, Bev and the others had let the subject drop there, but Eddie couldn't get it out of his mind.

He needed to be more careful, he'd thought. Richie had spent so long trying to get everybody at school to stop spreading rumors that he was gay; the _last_ thing that he needed was for the wrong person to see Eddie making googly eyes at him, get the wrong impression, and start up even nastier rumors. Richie would never forgive him.

Eddie wasn't sure how to describe his feelings for Richie, but one thought in particular had continued to nag at him. Maybe, he'd thought hesitantly, it was a crush.

_So what if it were? _Eddie told himself, feeling brave and somewhat defiant, if only in his own mind. _So what, so what, so what? Maybe I do have a crush on him. A crush on a boy. Who cares? Who the fucking fuck cares?_

But Eddie wasn't stupid. He could try as hard as he could to be brave, but he knew much better than to open his mouth about this to anybody -- _especially_ Richie.

And if Eddie had noticed over that summer that he was starting to fall in love with his best friend, he knew that he would have to love him on his own.

*******

Halloween was, Eddie thought, one of the absolute worst times of the year.

Even as a small child, Eddie wasn't able to enjoy it. His mother had let him trick-or-treat (under her extremely watchful eye, at least), but she had never, ever let him eat any of the candy that he'd gotten.

_Eddie, baby, I saw on the news that there were people putting _razor blades _in Halloween candy. You don't want to take any chances, Eddie. You don't want to be sick, Eddie. You don't want to die. You don't want to die. You don't want to --_

"--die for the chance to be at our Halloween party! I'm telling you guys, everybody's going to wish that they were there instead of wherever the fuck else their sorry asses ended up," Richie grinned, plotting their first _Grownup Halloween Party._

This was the year that they had all finally agreed that they were far too old to have any hope of trying to trick-or-treat. They’d spent the last few years going from house to house in ridiculous masks to hide their faces and pretend that they were a few years younger than they were to obtain pillowcases full of candy, but not this year. All of the Losers had turned sixteen already -- except for Eddie, Ben, and Stan -- and that was reason enough (at least to Richie) to throw a Halloween bash.

"Just one pr-problem, R-Richie."

"What's that, Big Bill?"

Bill made a show of animatedly looking around their lunch table. "We don't have any other friends."

Although in another scenario this may have been somewhat depressing, the frankness in Bill's voice (as well as the underlying truth in his statement) was enough to make the Losers laugh until they were wiping tears from their eyes.

"Foine, Gov'nah," British Richie had said. "Wot do you 'fink we should do about that?"

Here was their plan: Richie's parents had (unwisely) decided to go away to the Bahamas for their second honeymoon during the week of Halloween, so the Losers would all come to Richie's house –_"Costumes required!" Richie had insisted_ – spend the night, and raid the liquor cabinet like actual, real adults.

For Eddie, it had sounded like as good of a plan as anything.

He was more relieved than he would have liked to admit that their Halloween affair was only going to be the seven of them. Even though he was too old for his mother to regulate his candy consumption, he still felt deeply unsettled by Halloween, as if something were hiding in the shadows, ready to pounce on him. He had wondered if that fear had stemmed from when he was a younger boy and there always _had_ been bullies hiding away, ready to beat him up because he was too small or too different.

There was also the fact that Eddie had heard that Halloween was well known as being a holiday during which horny teenagers would hook up -- a tradition that Eddie was more than happy to avoid, thank you very much.

It wasn't so much that Eddie wasn't a horny teenager (he was, _annoyingly_ so, he'd thought). It was that there was only one person who Eddie was interested in hooking up with, and that person would never, ever even think of hooking up with Eddie.

Eddie had mostly come to terms with his crush on Richie -- if coming to terms meant daydreaming about him in class, blushing like an idiot whenever Richie had so much as touched him, and jerking off nearly incessantly all the while constantly reminding himself _it's never going to happen, it's never, ever, ever, _ever_ going to happen._

And Eddie was mostly fine with that. Really, he was.

Sometimes, though, he was less fine with it than others.

Like on Halloween night, when Richie had taken it upon himself to dress up like Batman. He couldn’t afford to buy an actual costume, but had instead dressed in a themed t-shirt, a cheap mask, and _extremely_ tight jeans.

Eddie had tried to ignore how little that Richie's getup had left to the imagination, and how comparably... underwhelming his own costume had turned out to be. He had run out of time to make something good, and had no money to buy anything impressive, so he had simply put on a nice suit and walked out the door.

"Who are you supposed to be?" asked Mike, who was dressed, unoriginally, as a football player.

"I'm--"

"A high school principal?" Bev asked, who was looking pretty dressed like a 1920's flapper.

"No, I--"

Bill, who was dressed as a farmer, guessed, "R-R-Ronald Regan?"

"What? Fuck no, I'm--"

"Oh! Oh!" exclaimed Richie. "Are you, like, a dead body on the way to a funeral? You know how they always put the corpses in suits and shit for that stuff!"

"I'm just supposed to be a guy wearing a suit," Eddie had sighed tiredly.

If their party had gotten off to a slow start at first, once they'd broken out the booze, it had really begun to pick up. Before long, they were laughing and dancing in Richie’s cramped living room, their faces red and their movements wobbly.

This was the first time that Eddie had ever really had anything to drink, seeing as the only other time he would have had the opportunity, Richie had ditched him at their homecoming dance to grind up on Mallory. That, however, was old news at this point. That night, things between the Losers had felt light and fun, as if nothing at all had changed in their group throughout the past few years.

For a moment, it was almost as though nothing in Eddie had changed at all, either.

"Guys, guys! Listen!" Eddie slurred, slinging his arm around whoever was sitting next to him at the moment. "I really, really love you all."

Beverly planted a kiss on his cheek. "We love you too, silly."

He really did love them, Eddie thought. He had no idea what he would do once they all grew up and went their separate ways. He supposed that he would just keep hoping that would never happen.

Eddie realized that sitting in Richie's living room, drunk and laughing with his favorite people in the world had made him feel as though he was exactly where he was meant to be.

Eddie had figured that he would wake up the next morning as the sun had hung high in the sky, nauseous, in pain, and hungover. He was somewhat right -- he did wake up with a throbbing headache and had to run to Richie's bathroom to vomit – but it had been at four in the morning instead of at noon. He'd leaned over the toilet and puked up the entire contents of his stomach, and once it was empty, he continued to dry heave for a few more minutes until his body had settled down again.

After he had finished, he had thought that his mouth had never felt so dry in his life, at least that he could remember. He walked into the kitchen, intending to grab a glass of water before trying to fall back asleep, when he noticed that the door to Richie's backyard was slightly ajar.

He had approached the door to shut it, but saw that Richie was sitting out there alone, still in his makeshift Batman costume. Richie was only missing the mask.

Eddie slowly opened the door the rest of the way and sat down next to Richie on the Tozier's porch swing.

"Is everything alright?" Eddie asked. He had generally tried to avoid asking that question, as it seemed to only have two feasible answers: a lie, which wouldn't help anybody and the truth, which nobody typically had wanted to actually hear.

Richie had just rubbed his temple. "Yeah, sorry, I hope I didn't wake you. I've just got a fucking killer headache. Couldn't go back to sleep."

"Tonight was really fun," Eddie remarked. He wasn't sure that he had ever enjoyed Halloween as much as he had that night.

"Yeah?" Richie asked, and Eddie nodded. "Well I'm glad.”

They sat together in silence, simply enjoying the other's company, before Richie reached out to touch Eddie's suit. "I really like this, you know. I think you look great in a suit."

Suddenly, Eddie was incredibly thankful that it was still dark outside so that Richie couldn't see his face flush. "Thanks," he said quietly.

At that moment, Richie moved to take off his glasses and then set them gently on Eddie's face. "There you go," he said, sounding pleased.

"There I go where?" Eddie asked, blinking. "Jesus, I never knew how fucking blind you were before. I can't see anything."

Richie ignored him and grinned. "With the glasses, you actually look kind of like Superman."

"Yeah, a skinnier, uglier version maybe," Eddie snorted, and put the glasses back on Richie’s face.

"I don't think so," Richie said, eyes fixated on Eddie. "I mean, skinnier, sure. But definitely not uglier."

"Really?" Eddie asked, his heart starting to pound, as if he'd just noticed how close that the two of them were sitting.

Richie smiled softly in return, his expression uncharacteristically tender. "Yeah, it's like I said. You look good."

Eddie had no idea how to respond in a way that wasn't ridiculously presumptuous, so he let the silence hang between the two of them. He instead opted to appreciate the way in which the moonlight had reflected on Richie's profile. It made him look like he was glowing in the night.

"Listen,” Richie started slowly, eyes still on Eddie. "Did I ever tell you why Mal and I broke up?"

Eddie shook his head.

"It's really embarrassing." Richie sighed and carded his fingers through his hair, looking as though he was trying to determine whether he had actually wanted to tell Eddie the story or not.

"I won't tell anyone," Eddie promised, suddenly feeling anxious to hear it.

"Okay. Okay," Richie nodded, psyching himself up. "We broke up because – ah. Well, I guess we broke up because she wanted to have sex. And I... didn't."

Eddie tried not to let his surprise show on his face. Ever since they were old enough to know what sex was (and even somewhat before that) Richie had been making jokes about how many girls that he'd slept with or all of the dirty things that he'd done or wanted to do to them. There had been no question in Eddie’s mind that Richie would want to have sex with anybody who would have him.

Still, Eddie had always figured that, even with all of his big talk, Richie was still a virgin – that was, until he had started dating Mallory. Eddie, for reasons he hadn't understood at the time, didn't want to think about _what_ the two of them were doing together, but he'd known in the pit of his stomach that, since they had been dating for close to a year, the two of them having sex wasn't out of the question.

He'd had no idea how much that uncertainty had been weighing on him until now.

"That's okay," Eddie said, trying his hardest to sound supportive instead of _fucking_ _relieved._ "It's fine that you weren't ready. A lot of people aren't."

Richie took a moment, seeming like he was searching for the right words to say. "It's not that I wasn't ready, I just didn't... _want_ to. Not with her, anyway."

Eddie felt like he could use a puff of his aspirator, if only he had still carried it around with him. He had a thought, just for a moment, that maybe Richie had wanted to tell him something. That _maybe_ he'd --

Eddie would have been an idiot to hope, to think for even a moment that Richie may have had feelings for him as well.

The way that he'd felt his heart thump in his eardrums meant that he _was_, in fact, that idiot. Cursing himself, Eddie took in a breath and said slowly, "Who did -- I mean, was there somebody that you did want to? You know, to do it with?"

Richie had stared back at him for a moment, then let out an incredulous laugh before burying his face in his palms. "Jesus fucking Christ."

"What is it?" Eddie asked, worried for a moment that Richie could read his mind and was disgusted that Eddie could have thought in any world that Richie could have been talking about him. Eddie was sure that wasn't the case, however, because it had looked as though Richie seemed to be on the verge of an anxiety attack.

Richie took a handful of ragged, uneven breaths before gasping, "I just -- I can't -- I can't do this right now, I can't."

Eddie moved closer to Richie on the porch swing and tried to use the most calming voice that he could manage. "It's okay, Richie. You're just panicking, but it's okay. We don't have to talk about this anymore, alright Rich? Let's talk about something else."

Richie shook his head, as if he couldn't even hear what Eddie was saying to him. "It's just been so fucking_ good_ lately, not having Bowers or anyone after me, calling me stupid fucking names all the time and spreading rumors."

"Wait," Eddie asked, slightly confused at Richie's tangent "What does that have to do with sleeping with Mallory?"

Richie just stared back at him, his breathing still uneven.

After a moment, things had started to make pretty decent sense to Eddie. Richie was clearly worried that their classmates would misconstrue his unwillingness to have sex with Mallory as some sort of sign that he was secretly a closet case. Eddie didn't know why he had let himself think that Richie may have been flirting with him.

Eddie had let his stupid _feelings_ get in the way of helping his friend, and he had felt embarrassed and ashamed.

"Come on Rich, you don't have to worry so much about those rumors," Eddie said softly, wanting to reach out to touch him but thinking better of it at the last moment. "It's just stupid shit that nobody believes. Everybody knows that you're not really... like that." _Like me, _he thought.

They sat together in silence for the next few moments, neither of them willing to move an inch. Eddie was almost certain that, for once in his life, Richie had no easy remark or comeback to offer. He was about to change the subject entirely to try and help Richie calm down, before he heard Richie’s voice again.

"What if," he said, so quietly that Eddie almost couldn't hear him. "What if I were?"

He noticed that Richie's hands were trembling badly, though he quickly shoved them into his pockets so that Eddie couldn't see them anymore.

"What if you were _what_?" Eddie asked, once again starting to feel nearly as anxious as Richie looked.

Eddie could swear that he could feel Richie's heart racing, even in the small gap between the two of them. In the time it took for Richie to respond again, Eddie didn't think that he'd managed to breathe even once.

"If I were _like that._ If I were --" Richie's voice caught in his throat, and he took in a shaky breath. He was no longer making eye contact with Eddie, instead staring at his own feet. "If it were true. The things that they say about me."

All at once, Eddie's entire body felt as though it had been lit ablaze. He knew what Richie was suggesting -- what he was saying, essentially outright.

He almost didn't dare believe it; Eddie knew that he was destined to be alone -- that he would never be able to find somebody who could genuinely understand who he was and the way that he felt. He was certain that he'd most likely have to spend the rest of his life ignoring or pretending not to notice the one blatant part of him that seemed to so desperately demand for his attention.

And yet... here was Richie. He was sunken into himself, body still trembling, and feeling _ashamed, _ashamed and full of self-loathing in a way that Eddie knew all too well.

Eddie moved even closer to Richie so that their legs were touching. He imagined what he would like for somebody to say to him, if he ever had the courage to confess to what Richie just had.

"Richie... Hey, Rich," Eddie repeated, making sure that they were both looking at each other. "Even if you were... _like that_, all of us Losers -- we'd still want to be your friend. It wouldn't change anything for us, I swear. And it definitely wouldn't change anything for me."

If Eddie was worried before that Richie wasn't looking at him, he could rest easily. Now, Richie was staring at him full on, his eyes as wide as saucers and wearing a sickly pale expression. He asked, "Really? Do you -- are you really _sure_?"

Eddie nodded. "Of course. Losers stick together, right? Plus," he smirked, trying to lighten the mood, "we'd be way more likely to ditch you because of that horrible British accent rather than anything else."

Richie blinked in surprise, then broke into a grin. He tried to let out a nervous laugh, but as quickly as he'd let himself begin to smile, Eddie had seen Richie’s lower lip began to tremble.

Richie covered his face with his hands again as he let out big, breathy sobs. Unsure of what to do, Eddie wrapped his arm around him, noticing how Richie's entire body shook and how small that he'd seemed. _He was still beautiful,_ Eddie thought. _Maybe even more-so now._

A part of him had thought to coo at him like Eddie's Ma used to do to him when he'd cry -- _It's okay, Eddie, don't worry, Mommy's here baby. Everything's okay_. -- but he'd thought better of it, so the two of them just sat there holding each other until Richie had finally managed to quiet down.

Richie was wiping his eyes, breathing still ragged when he croaked, "You know, that thing you said about my British accent really hurt my feelings."

And it was so unexpected that Eddie couldn't help but burst out into laughter. Richie joined him, more genuinely this time, and once they'd both started they couldn't stop, their laughter saturating the air and making their stomachs hurt.

"I'm sorry, Rich, really, it's just so bad." Eddie finally managed between gasps of air.

"Well I'd call you a right tosser," Richie sniffed. "A nasty old bloke who --"

"_Stop,_" Eddie said, unable to keep himself from giggling.

Richie rolled his eyes. "That's not what your mom told me last night. Quite the opposite, actually."

"Richie!"

"Okay! Fine," Richie relented, and Eddie thought that he may as well buy a lottery ticket, because he couldn't remember the last time that Richie had stopped his teasing him the first time that Eddie had asked. "Sorry, Eds. I'll work on the voice. It'll be so good _you'll 'fink you was in London, mate_."

Eddie felt something pull in his stomach. _Richie had called him Eds._

He never thought that he would be so happy to hear that stupid nickname again.

Before he knew it, the two of them were laughing again as though there were something infectious in the air. Eddie realized that he was relieved that the they were still able to laugh and tease each other, just like normal. He thought that they hadn't done that together quite like this since before Richie and Mallory had started dating.

Still, though.

As they sat together on the porch swing – and even afterwards, as they both went back into Richie's living room to try and get a few more hours of sleep – Eddie could not will his pulse to calm down. He could feel that something significant had changed between the two of them.

He just wasn't entirely sure what it was yet.

*******

"Blue or pink?" Beverly asked, holding up two equally poofy and hideous prom dresses.

"Is neither an option?" Eddie asked, after having given both dresses a once-over.

"Seriously, Bev," Richie said. "You'd look hot in anything, but this is stretching the limits of my imagination a bit too thin."

The three of them had been searching around their local Goodwill for the past hour at that point, looking for anything that would be even remotely acceptable to wear to their prom. It was still about a month away, but Bev had insisted that she'd had to find her dress significantly ahead of time so that she could make all of the appropriate alterations.

"I've got a vision for this blue one," she said, putting the pink dress back up on the rack.

Eddie, Richie, and Beverly had been hanging out together quite a bit more as of recently. All of the other Losers had opted to spend more and more of their free time chasing girls and trying to find dates. The three of them seemed to be the only ones who were content with the way that things were now. Bev had said that she was sick of dealing with boys, having had a quick fling with a senior in the fall that, according to her, had left much to be desired.

"He took me to McDonalds and then tried to unhook my bra while we were going through the drive-through," Beverly had recounted, shuddering.

Eddie, as hard as he had tried to fight it, still only had eyes for Richie -- and as for Richie? Well, the two of them hadn't spoken much about it since that past Halloween when Richie had come out to Eddie in a Batman costume outside at four in the morning, but Eddie figured that if his own feelings were reciprocated, Richie would have indicated that in some way by now.

But just because Richie didn't have feelings for him didn't mean that the past few months of them being best friends again hadn't been some of the most thrilling that Eddie could remember.

It wasn't exactly the same as how it used to be between them; sure, they'd still teased each other relentlessly, Richie joking that he'd fucked Eddie's mom and Eddie telling Richie how many germs must have been on his smudgy glasses. Then, Richie would call Eddie "Eds", and Eddie would pretend that he hated it.

A lot of things had changed too, though. Richie had never particularly respected the bounds of personal space, but lately he had seemed to be going out of his way to be as close to Eddie as he could be at all times. They would be hanging out in the clubhouse, and Richie would squeeze so close to him that their shoulders and thighs would be touching. They'd be in the middle of a conversation, and Richie would casually reach out and grab Eddie's arm for no apparent reason. Even now, as they were looking at dress shirts together, Richie had his arm slung lazily around Eddie's shoulders as he gestured to the clothes.

"Now zees one, eet es zee finest silk een all of France," Richie said, pulling pale blue a shirt from the rack.

"That's cotton, you fucking moron," Eddie laughed.

Needless to say, Eddie was a fan of the physical contact.

It had also become apparent that Richie and Eddie were making as many excuses that they could to hang out with the other as much as possible. It wasn't that they hadn't hung out just the two of them without the other Losers before -- they had, plenty of times. But recently, it was as though they were never apart. Where one of them had gone, the other had always seemed to follow.

(The rest of the Losers had playfully teased them about this on more than one occasion, but Richie and Eddie had seemed more than happy to blow them off.)

Bev was about to get in line to buy her dress when she asked, "Did either of you find something to wear yet?"

"No dice," Eddie said. "It's really tough to decide between all of these identical white shirts."

Richie laughed at that. "Yeah, I don't even think that I want to go to the prom. It'll just be like any other fucking dance, except a much bigger a waste of money."

Eddie turned his attention to Richie. "Really? You don't think you'll be going?"

"No, I don't see why I would," Richie had said simply. "It's not like I have a date or anything."

And like usual, Eddie knew that where Richie _didn't_ go, Eddie wouldn't be either.

\--

"I can't believe that you guys aren't going to be there with us tonight!" Bev said sadly. She was wearing her blue prom dress, which she had somehow managed to alter from the old-fashioned monstrosity that they'd seen at Goodwill to a modern and beautiful prom gown. Although Eddie was starting to think that he wasn't interested in girls at all (even separate from his crush on Richie) even he was blown away by how breathtaking that Bev had looked.

"It's so l-lame," Bill said. "I thought L-L-Losers were supposed to s-stick together."

"There's still next year," Eddie had offered, not able to make himself feel particularly guilty about ditching his friends when he knew that he was in anticipation of an entire night alone with Richie.

"We'll miss you guys," Ben said, smiling. He'd looked handsome in his suit, Eddie thought kindly. The work that he was putting in at their school's swim team was paying off well, and combined with a growth spurt he'd had following puberty, Ben looked almost nothing like the awkward kid that he'd been only three years ago.

"Us too," Eddie said.

"But call us for the after party," Richie had added. "Unless you're all too busy gettin' some to remember that we even fucking exist."

A few moments later all of the Losers, minus Richie and Eddie, had piled into Mike's pickup truck and headed on their way to the prom.

Richie had beamed at Eddie so charmingly that it made Eddie's stomach flip. "So what do you want to do now?"

"I don't know. Any ideas?"

"If you want to, we could drive out to the quarry or something and listen to music? I kind of, um. Ah, I kind of made you a mix tape?" Eddie noticed that Richie's cheeks were slightly pink. "Or well, actually, I made it for your mom, but I figured the two of you would have similar taste --"

"Shut up," Eddie said. "Let's go."

Richie drove them, since Eddie hadn't been able to convince his mother to let him take his driver's test. He didn't mind as much as he thought he would. He had actually quite enjoyed being Richie's passenger, even though Richie could sometimes be a menace on the road and his car was so old that Eddie wasn't even entirely sure that the airbags had worked. Richie had seemed extraordinarily confident behind the wheel, and he was so at ease that Eddie couldn't help it if some of Richie's calming energy had rubbed off on him.

Once they had gotten to the cliff overlooking the quarry, Richie parked and put in his (or, _Eddie's_) mix tape in the radio. He rolled the car windows down, and the two of them sat comfortably on the hood of his car as they listened.

Eddie wasn't typically one for listening to music. It wasn't that he didn't like it, it was just that he didn't necessarily prefer it to silence. He'd known that his other friends, like Richie and Ben, had been able to connect deeply and emotionally to the music that they'd listened to, but Eddie had never been able to experience that.

Eddie's mix tape, as Richie had explained, was a collection of songs that reminded him of Eddie, songs that he thought Eddie would like, as well as, consequently, a few songs that he knew that Eddie would hate.

They'd sat mostly in silence and listened together, Richie smoking languidly and Eddie chiding him for it. They listened to _Africa_, which Eddie had thought was terribly overplayed (and Richie had agreed), _Smells Like Teen Spirit_ by Nirvana (Which Eddie learned that Richie had been really getting into lately), and _Ice Ice Baby _(a song that Richie was well aware that Eddie had absolutely despised_._)

An understated but still somewhat upbeat intro played next, and Eddie immediately recognized it as _Lovesong_ by The Cure. He'd only known it so well because it had been Richie's absolute favorite song a few years ago, and he had seemed to play it nonstop. This time, as he heard to the lyrics play through Richie's crackly car speakers, he couldn’t help but wonder why Richie had put it in a playlist dedicated to Eddie.

_Whenever I'm alone with you_

Y_ou make me feel like I am home again_

_Whenever I'm alone with you_

_You make me feel like I am whole again_

Eddie looked over to Richie, who seemed to be pointedly _not_ looking over at Eddie. The expression on his face was pale and tense.

_However far away, I will always love you_

_However long I stay, I will always love you_

_Whatever words I say, I will always love you_

Suddenly, Richie had stood up off of the hood of the car. "This song is dumb. I don't even know why I put it on here. We should skip it."

"I like it," Eddie said quietly, trying to listen to the words.

_Whenever I'm alone with you_

_You make me feel like I am free again_

Eddie felt his heart race, and he thought that this must be what it felt like to have an emotional reaction to a song.

"Well I don't," Richie said, his cheeks uncharacteristically flushed. He reached through the window of his car and turned off the radio entirely.

"Hey, you didn't have to do that," Eddie said, frowning. "That was a good song."

"No, it's a fucking stupid song, and I just -- I just didn't want to listen to it anymore, okay?" Richie muttered angrily, sitting back down next to Eddie.

"Fine," Eddie said, and crossed his arms stubbornly, feeling like an idiot for trying to assign any deeper meaning to – as Richie had just put it, a stupid fucking song. Richie probably hadn't thought anything of it when he put it on the playlist, just remembering that it was a song that he'd liked when he was a kid and not even remembering how the lyrics had gone.

Richie sighed. "Listen, Eds, I'm sorry, I just --"

"-- really, it's fine --"

"--I just didn't want you to think..." Richie paused to consider his words. “I just. I know that we haven't, like, talked about… you know, what I told you at Halloween. And that's fine -- I didn't, like, want to talk about it or anything. But I'm sure you didn't forget."

Eddie nodded slowly, feeling his pulse pick up in anticipation for whatever Richie was going to say next.

Richie shifted uncomfortably. "I guess I just don't want you to think that I'm, like, a creep or something. Or like, trying to jump your bones or some shit." He lowered his head, breaking eye contact with Eddie. "I didn't want you to change your mind. You know, about wanting to still be friends."

Eddie stared at Richie for a moment, completely unsure of how to respond. He'd had no idea that something so ridiculous had been weighing so heavily on Richie's mind. To Richie, though, it wasn’t ridiculous at all; he had been genuinely worried that Eddie would leave him. A part of Eddie had previously assumed -- now foolishly, he supposed -- that Richie had figured out that Eddie had a crush on him and had been trying to let him down easily by not telling him that his feelings were returned.

Eddie had thought that he was the one who had felt insecure about his relationship with Richie, but as it turned out, he couldn't have been more wrong.

"Rich," Eddie said moving closer to him so that they were barely an inch apart.

"Yeah, yeah," Richie said, smiling sardonically. "You'd never abandon such a good ole' pal like yours truly, right?"

"Jesus, Richie, shut up for one second, okay?" Eddie could hear his voice shaking. That wasn't good. He didn't want to sound anxious.

The truth was though, as Eddie felt his heartbeat thrumming throughout his entire body, Eddie didn't think that he had ever been more nervous in his life.

"Sorry, Eds."

Eddie tried to calm his breathing and will his voice to stay steady. "What if I said that I was... _like that_ too?"

Richie turned his head to look over at Eddie and when he did, the space between their faces was nearly nonexistent. In the tiny distance, Eddie thought that Richie's expression looked somewhat nauseous.

"Like... what?" He'd asked slowly.

"Gay," Eddie had managed. He realized that it was the word that had died in Richie's throat when Richie was the one confessing. Eddie hadn’t fully understood how much courage it took to say until now. "What if I were, Richie?"

"If you -- if you were," Richie said, his voice now sounding somewhat unsteady as well. "If you were, it wouldn't change anything, Eds."

Richie was parroting the exact response that Eddie had given to him all of those months ago. Eddie had remembered that, in that moment, it was what he'd thought that he would want somebody to say to him if he had ever been the one coming out.

But now that he was here, it wasn't the case at all.

"It wouldn't?" Eddie asked.

"Yeah, I mean it's like you said. Losers stick together, right?" Richie said, his gaze still directly focused on Eddie.

"But it wouldn't change _anything?_" Eddie repeated anxiously.

Richie laughed, his voice sounding weak. "Obviously not. We'd all still want to be your friend."

"For _you,_" Eddie pressed, impatiently. "Would it change anything for you?"

"What are you asking me?" Richie asked nervously, intently staring back at Eddie.

"Jesus, Rich what do you think I'm asking?" The confidence that Eddie had been able to muster was beginning to wear thin.

Richie carded his fingers through his perpetually messy black curls. "I don't fucking know, actually!"

Eddie stared at Richie in silence for a few more moments before nodding his head solemnly. "Okay, fine. Never mind then. I think that I probably should be getting home anyway, since it's so late. Thanks for the mix tape, Richie."

He figured that Richie was either being purposely dense, or that Eddie was right the first time and Richie was well aware of Eddie's feelings for him and was putting up red flags, signaling _I have absolutely NO ROMANTIC FEELINGS for the hypochondriac geek who follows me around like a lost puppy. I may be gay, but I'm not fucking desperate. _

Before Eddie could stand up though, Richie grabbed his wrist and held it firmly so that Eddie couldn't go anywhere. Eddie was caught so thoroughly by surprise that he’d nearly gasped. "Wait, Eds. Fuck I'm -- I'm just a mess."

"No kidding," Eddie agreed breathlessly. He was sure that Richie could feel how fast that Eddie's pulse was racing.

"You just dropped a lot of information on me, and it's a ton to take in all of the sudden, and," Richie took in a breath, perhaps realizing that he had been babbling. He continued softly, "Would you want it to? Change things?"

This was the moment. He was going to have to either lie to Richie, which would help neither of them, or tell Richie the truth, which he may not have wanted to hear.

He had gotten this far, though. He'd managed to love Richie all alone for well over a year -- probably even longer, if he were to count the amount of time he had likely been subconsciously in love with Richie before his feelings had become too blatant to ignore.

And now, the boy that he loved (the boy who he daydreamed about before falling asleep every night, the boy whose initials he had crudely doodled in his school notebooks when nobody was looking, the boy whose lips he'd imagined the taste of far too many times to count, the boy that he ditched prom to spend a night alone with, the boy, the boy, the _boy_) was asking him.

Did Eddie want things to change between them?

"Yeah," he whispered, quietly enough that Richie was likely only able to hear because they had been sitting so closely together. "I do."

"You would?" Richie asked, his voice unsteady.

Eddie, who was unable to bring himself to say it again, simply nodded.

"Fuck. Fuck, okay," Richie said, nodding back at Eddie a bit too quickly.

"Things don't have to change if you don't want them to," Eddie said, his heart in his throat. "There's no... pressure, or anything."

"No, I do," Richie amended quickly. "I really, really fucking do."

"You do?" Eddie asked, feeling his face start to heat up.

"Yeah. I do," Richie said, and shot Eddie a nervous smile.

"Fuck.”

For a few seconds, the two of them had just sat there beaming at each other like idiots. Eddie wasn't really sure that he could believe it -- and half expected his alarm clock to go off and to find himself back in his bed, having dreamt this entire thing.

But he hadn't, and it was _real_, and here was how he knew:

Suddenly, and without warning, Richie had leaned in and kissed him.

Eddie's first thought was of how gentle that Richie had been. Their lips had just barely touched, but it had been enough to make every hair on Eddie's body stand on end.

It had been his first kiss.

Richie pulled away less than a millimeter and murmured, "Was that okay?"

"Yes," was all that Eddie could manage breathlessly, and just like that, Richie was cupping his cheek and kissing him again.

The second time was different. They were both far less hesitant as well as much needier. Eddie wasn't sure how long that they had both waited for this to happen, but he'd figured that it was long enough to drive them both nearly crazy.

Eddie, who knew that he was far more inexperienced than Richie had been, tried to follow Richie's cue. When Richie parted his lips, Eddie nervously followed suit. He noticed that Richie's lips tasted like cigarettes, a flavor that Eddie had thought that he would have hated -- that was, until he realized that was exactly how he had always imagined that kissing Richie would taste like. He felt Richie sigh against his lips, and Eddie thought that he was going to die right there on the spot.

They pulled away from each other for a moment to catch their breath. Eddie noticed how red that Richie's lips had looked, and he felt a pleasant pull in his stomach knowing that he was the reason for it.

"Jesus fuck, Eds," Richie gasped. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that."

"You're telling me," Eddie agreed, thinking about how only moments ago, he'd thought that Richie didn't want anything to do with him.

"Wait, really? You too?" Richie asked, and Eddie just nodded. "Fuck, you mean we could have been doing this the whole time?"

"Guess so," laughed Eddie in a happy state of disbelief.

There was a glint in Richie’s eye. "Blimey, well I'd call that a right tragedy!"

"Richie, _no_," Eddie groaned.

"A bloody missed opportunity, love, if you ask me!"

“Okay, I don’t think I like you anymore.”

“A right shame, that! I’ll say –“

Eddie had leaned in and kissed him again to shut him up.

***

It was a hot, sticky summer day in mid-June when Eddie and Richie were squished together, lounging in the hammock that was hanging up in the Losers’ clubhouse. There had used to be plenty of room for the two of them to fit in it together, but with how much that they’d grown in the past few years, they could barely squeeze onto the small piece of fabric without having to essentially lie on top of each other.

Not that Eddie was complaining.

It had been close to a month since he and Richie had admitted their feelings for each other, and Eddie supposed that they were currently in somewhat of a honeymoon phase – neither one of them could keep their hands off of the other.

_(Eddie remembered Richie pinning him against the wall, all hot breaths and soft lips as they gasped into each other’s mouths._

_“You’ve really thought about this before?” Richie had sighed against Eddie’s lips._

_“Yeah Rich, I have. All of the fucking time, actually,” Eddie groaned as he felt Richie kissing down his neck._

_“When you – fuck. When you think about it,” murmured Richie, his hands sliding hesitantly under the hem of Eddie’s shirt. “What do we do next?”)_

They hadn’t told the others yet – not because they had thought that they would react with anything other than support (since of course, Losers stick together), but because Richie and Eddie had both spent so much time hoping and wishing and _wondering_ what it would be like to be together that they’d agreed that they could use some time alone to figure out what, exactly that “being together” had entailed before making their relationship public.

So far, it had consisted of a whole lot of kissing. It seemed as though whenever Richie and Eddie were alone together for more than just a few minutes, they were making out.

As a kid, Eddie had always thought that kisses were disgusting; he was used to getting wet, smudgy kisses on his cheeks from older aunts or uncles that he had never even met before. That aversion was only made greater by his mother stressing (in a desperate attempt to dissuade Eddie from ever getting a girlfriend) how many germs could be transferred into his mouth if he’d ever kissed anyone.

But Richie wasn’t like Eddie’s aunts and uncles, and he sure as fuck wasn’t anything like Eddie had thought that a girlfriend would be.

It was still somewhat strange to Eddie, saying out loud what he had felt in his heart for so many years but didn’t ever dare say. But there was something about finally having Richie with him that had made the prospect more exciting than terrifying.

(_“Yeah, I’m definitely, like, really gay,” Eddie had said breathlessly to Richie in between kisses._

_Richie had smiled back at him hesitantly. Eddie realized that, despite how many times that they’d kissed and talked about how long that they’d both been pining away for each other, Richie had never actually been able to admit out loud that he was gay._

_“I’m not sure if I _am_ gay,” Richie had admitted to Eddie after a moment._

_ Eddie had shot him a quizzical look in response. They had just been kissing after all, and by this point Richie had told Eddie multiple times how much that he liked him._

_Richie shook his head. “No, I mean – I guess I’m definitely kind of gay, since I like you and all, but I don’t know. I always thought that I liked girls too. Even when I was dating Mallory, I did really like her. I just… liked you way more. Do you think that it’s possible to like both?”_

_“I don’t know,” Eddie had said honestly. “But if you do, that’s fine. As long as you like me the most, I don’t really give a shit if you like girls or guys or whatever else.”_

_“Well you don’t have to worry about that, because I really, really, really fucking like you,” Richie had said, laughing and leaning in again. _

_As they’d kissed, Eddie felt Richie smile against his lips.)_

Eddie could tell that there was still a part of Richie that had felt somewhat held back by all of the torment that Bowers and the other bullies at school had put him through for all of those years. Richie clearly tried to hide it so it wasn’t too obvious, but sometimes – when Richie had pulled away from a kiss a few seconds too early or blushed extra deeply after talking to Eddie about his feelings – Eddie could see a hint of shame in his eyes.

But Richie was getting better; he and Eddie both were.

(_Richie had said something to Eddie a few days after their first kiss that night at the quarry:_

_“Jesus, Eds, I’ve always thought that there was something broken inside of me—it was what made me feel guilty that I liked you so much for so long. And when I thought you didn’t like me back, it was like when you’d have an asthma attack but couldn’t find your inhaler or something. I felt like I could barely breathe. I saw what everybody else had with the people that they were in love with, and I could pretend to have that with somebody else, but I knew that the only person that I would ever really feel that way about was you._

_“But I still thought it would be easier that way, because like, _fuck_, I mean – we’re both guys, and it would be so fucking hard, and probably not even worth it. But now? Now that I can kiss you and hold your hand and tell you to your face how goddamn crazy that I am about you? Well, I’ll be fucked if I let any other assholes try to make me feel ashamed. _

_“Because I’m realizing that it’s like – it’s like… fuck, Eds. I can finally breathe.)_

And after so many years of fake medicine and bullies and his controlling mother and falling in love with a best friend who he had thought would never love him back, Eddie realized that he could finally breathe now, too.

As the two of them sat tangled up in the hammock, they both tried as hard as they could to pretend that they were engrossed in the comic books that were in their laps– but it was everything that they could do to keep their eyes from wandering from the pages and onto each other and breaking out in goofy, childish grins.

“W-wow,” Bill remarked, “I think that t-this is the longest that Richie and Eddie h-h-have ever sat in the hammock together without bickering.”

“Don’t hold your breath, Big Bill,” Richie said without taking his eyes off of Eddie. “Once he finds out what his mom and I got up to last night, I’ll never hear the end of it.”

The rest of the Losers laughed incredulously, and for once, Eddie didn’t take the bait. He didn’t think that he would be able to stop smiling for long enough to think of a comeback.

He and Richie would tell the others soon enough.

For now though, he thought, not letting his eyes wander even an inch from the boy that he loved, Eddie felt completely content.

**Author's Note:**

> If you made it this far, thank you SO MUCH for reading! I honestly can't tell you how much I appreciate it. If you have the time, I would love to hear what you thought!!
> 
> I'm also in the process of writing a companion piece to this story with some scenes from Richie's perspective filling in a few gaps that I left out of this story, so if you're at all interested in hearing about that (or anything else that I'll be writing in the future!) you might want to check out my Tumblr [@eddiesbootyshorts](https://eddiesbootyshorts.tumblr.com/%5D)! 
> 
> Otherwise, thank you again for reading! :)


End file.
